


Drought of Fingertips

by stardropdream



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: CLAMPkink, F/M, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 09:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It’s alright to be sad, when someone you love does not love you back."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drought of Fingertips

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted for the CLAMP kink meme and then reposted to LJ August 29, 2010. 
> 
> The prompt was to write male!ZW, based off the comment CLAMP made a while ago, alluding to the fact ZW may not be female.

She removes his kimono for him, taking great care and making sure her hands don’t linger long enough to make him nervous and begin to fret. He keeps his head bowed, his long hair covers his face, save for where it is clipped back from _that boy’s_ hairclips, given to him as a gift for White Day.   
  
“My voice keeps changing,” he whispers, and it’s true, his voice slightly cracks at the end, is no longer light and childlike, but beginning to sound deeper, almost masculine.   
  
She nods, sympathetic, only for him, aware of the distress that his changing voice must be giving him. He fiddles with his fingertips before looking up at her with wide eyes. Ame-Warashi does not smile, because it is not in her nature, but her look must give him some kind of comfort because he stops worrying his bottom lip and just looks slack-jawed for a moment.   
  
“Because you’re growing,” the Ame-Warashi explains with a nod.   
  
He quickly looks down, frowning. She finishes removing the last of his clothing and he pulls away—she longs to touch him, but keeps her hands to herself, adjusts her gloves. He slips into the lake at the base of the mountain, naked now, body flat and lean, like a young boy’s rather than a young girl’s. But, he still manages to look feminine, as well. If she were to say so, she thinks he would be happy. He tucks some of his long hair behind his ear, looking down into the water, looking at his reflection. He studies it for a long time and she is not sure what it is he’s looking for but she has an idea. She does not say anything, though there are many things she could say given the situation.   
  
She sits on the side of the lake, her hand passing sweetly over the water—and the water droplets rise to meet her, remember her and know her, as a child knows its mother. She strokes the water’s surface, lets the water sing and know her. She finds comfort in the gentle presence, adapting to the droplets as if they were herself and she was them. She is the rain, she is the water.   
  
She waits for the Zashiki-Warashi to bathe, knows to be patient. As shy as the changing boy is, she knows that he is not distressed with her being there. Nakedness is not something he fears in front of her, because she knows his secrets and keeps them locked away close, cares for the boy despite the fact that his affections rest with another. _That boy._   
  
He moves through the water, purifying himself. He still seems almost a touch unhappy, though with every passing moment in the water, his worries pass on. She can feel it vibrating in the water as she touches it, feels the icy coolness, enough to freeze the flesh off a mortal.   
  
“Sometimes,” the Zashiki-Warashi says, fiddling with the water, “I think about telling him. About me.”  
  
The child of the rain does not look up, and instead focuses on the water’s surface, sees her reflection scowling—so much for her peace in the moment.   
  
She steadies her breath, tries to appear nonchalant though if he were to turn around and look at her shoulders he would see the tension there, the suppressed unhappiness and anger. “Is that so?”  
  
“I don’t think I’d be able to,” he admits, quietly, his voice sounding so far away. So soft. But it is changing. He is changing.   
  
It hurts so badly at times, but she knows that it’s the case. And she would do it again, she thinks—be near this child, care for this child. She hates to think she possesses the emotions usually reserved for selfish humans, but truly she is jealous, and truly she loves this child, more than she cares to admit. It gives her a false peace of mind at times, but in the wan hours of the daylight, just before the morning dew falls, she grows tired. She longs to strip her own clothes and join him in the lake, to hold him close and let him know that she accepts him for all his faults, all his secrets, and does not want any harm to come to him.  
  
When she touches the water, she can almost feel the water touching him, and though it’s far from enough, it’s something.   
  
“Why is that?” she asks, waiting a beat so that the child can absorb his own words.   
  
The Zashiki-Warashi stares at his reflection and then up at the sky. Even from this distance, she can see that he is trying not to cry.   
  
“Because it wouldn’t matter, in the end. He is so kind… but he does not see me as I see him.”  
  
A silence falls. Ame-Warashi had known all along, had suspected that he knew deep down as well. But now it is out in the open, and he does look unhappy. Ame-Warashi stands, pulling off her gloves and the ties in her hair, letting her blue hair fall in curls around her cheeks and shoulders. The Zashiki-Warashi stares at her in alarm as she pulls off her dress, lets the fabric fall down her body. She stands naked for a moment before she tilts her chin up defiantly and walks into the water. The water parts away from her, and the air almost feels thicker, and the water is cold but so loving as it wraps around her body and she walks steadily along the bottom of the lake out towards the other spirit, moving through the water as easily as she moves through air.  
  
The Zashiki-Warashi does not pull away, but still seems confused as the rain spirit stops in front of him, holding his gaze.   
  
“I—” he begins, wants to back-pedal and put her at ease, to assure her that he will be alright.  
  
She cups his face, though, pushing away tears he hadn’t realized he’d been crying. He closes his eyes, lets the tears flow.   
  
“It’s alright,” she tells him and he nods his head, weakly, not believing her. She repeats, “It’s alright. It’s alright to be sad, when someone you love does not love you back.”  
  
He hesitantly lifts his hands, cupping hers, still pressed against his cheeks. He nods again, this time more firmly.   
  
They do not move as he cries, the water drops pouring over her bare fingers, slipping past her and splashing on the water’s surface, causing small ripples. She has so much she wants to say, but she bites her tongue, and does her best to comfort him.  
  
“Thank you,” he says, softly, his voice still faraway.  
  
The rain spirit drops her hands from his cheeks, pushes the hair away from his face.   
  
“… Your hair looks nice down,” he says, opening his eyes and looking at her.   
  
She does not smile, though she feels like she wants to. His eyes flicker, tracing the lines of her face.   
  
“… Come here,” she says, and shifts, dropping her arms into the water and picking the Zashiki-Warashi up with no trouble. He makes a small peeping noise of surprise, but does not struggle as the rain child takes him to her chest, cradling him. His face presses into the warmth of her neck, can feel her naked breasts pressing against him and despite the intimacy of the situation that should make him feel uneasy, he feels perfectly content and welcomed in her hold. She stands in the water, holding him to her, and he wraps his arms around her, holding her tight to him.  
  
“Thank you,” he says again.   
  
She makes a soft grunting noise and looks up at the sky, feeling lost, feeling so close and yet so far away. Knows his heart belongs to another and yet still wanting it for herself.


End file.
